


A Life in Moments

by BabyWithWings



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Getting Together, Honeymoon, Jim Kirk being Extra, M/M, Marriage, Married Spirk, Pon Farr, Singing, an unnecessary amount of meaningful looks across the room, star fleet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 17:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyWithWings/pseuds/BabyWithWings
Summary: Music is used for so many things. It expresses things in ways we find it difficult to say, it changes opinions and evokes emotion so powerful that it starts revolutions, and maybe most importantly, it's the universal language of love.(Or, 3 times Spock hears Jim sing, and the one time Jim hears Spock sing)





	A Life in Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to ItinerantAuthor for being such an amazing and patient editor, and to grumpybonesey for the prompt!

Chess had been a bi-weekly occurrence since the beginning of the second year in their five year mission. It was a time for the two to relax while sharpening their logic skills, and a chance for Jim to teach Spock to expect the illogical. As the dawn of their third year in the final frontier loomed over the crew in a sort-of joyous grief, Spock found himself incredibly drained from being around emotional humans venting to each other in the corridors about how difficult it would be to leave the ship and its crew. He was looking forward to the chess match; the mentally stimulating game always offered new endings and the easy conversation he had with his Captain helped relieve the stress on his shoulders. 

Spock stopped in his quarters to savor the momentary silence--or, at least, he would have, if he couldn’t hear a faint voice just out of his hearing range. He turned his head toward the shared bathroom he had with his Captain, eyebrow lifted in curiosity. Making his way over to the door, the words became clearer and clearer. Upon not hearing the water running, Spock came to the conclusion that Jim was in his quarters, and entering the bathroom would not disturb him. 

The doors hissed open before him, and Spock stepped into the bathroom. It was sizable, as two were meant to share it, and it was rather obvious which sink belonged to whom. On Jim’s side there was a great number of bottles, some nearly empty, his razor left out of its charging pad, resting atop an unfolded hand towel. On Spock’s side, there were three bottles; before them lay a large-toothed comb; to the right of that was his charging razor, and underneath was a carefully folded and pristine towel. Spock didn’t mind the mess on Jim’s side of the sink so long as it remained on Jim’s side. Jim learned that lesson only a few weeks into sharing a bathroom with him: Spock had thrown away every item of Jim’s on his side of the sink, including Jim’s toothbrush, and that was how the two truly became friends. 

Spock was close enough now to make out that it was Jim’s voice singing. The words were much clearer. Jim was singing a song that he didn’t recognize, very gently, but with purpose. Spock couldn’t help but imagine the look in his eyes whenever he was coming to some great realization--the one he normally got when in arduous situations. Straining his ears, Spock closed his eyes and listened to Jim’s words.

_ “Be as you’ve always been, be like the love that discovered the sin, that freed the first man and would do so again, and lover be good to me… be that hopeful feeling then Eden was lost, it’s been deaf to our laughter when the master was crossed, which side of the wall really suffers that cost, oh lover, be good to me…”  _

Spock was unaware of any lover that Jim may have had, and was suddenly aware of some illogically upset knot tightening in his core. Jim would have told him if he were seeing anyone. Perhaps this was one of those times when words did not reflect how one truly feels; Jim had explained to him that humans often lie to make others feel more comfortable. That was something that Spock knew all too well. 

Pursing his lips, Spock disregarding the string of illogical and emotional thoughts that had raced through his mind. Whether or not Jim had a lover, and whether or not Jim told him about it was none of Spock’s business, and even if he had thought they were close enough, Spock had no control over the matter. Bringing it up would prove that Spock had been listening in, and he did not have an especially logical reason as to why. 

Spock reached forward and touched the side of the door, and a faint ringing could be heard from within. Jim’s singing fell short as he voiced his allowance, and the doors parted. Spock stepped through, and Jim’s lips spread in a warm smile. 

“Good evening, Spock,” he hummed, making his way over to the chess table, finishing setting up the pieces. His entire demeanor told nothing, as if he hadn’t just been singing terribly confusing words that left Spock’s mind reeling over their meaning. “Black or white?”

 

Three games were played that night, and at the end, Spock won 2-1. Jim was a gracious loser, grinning up at Spock with twinkling eyes and a warmness that Spock was sure he lacked in himself. 

“Good Game, Mr. Spock,” he congratulated. Spock always wondered how Jim could be so modest, even after losing. Even his own Vulcan peers often didn’t have such grace. 

“Indeed. You were a formidable opponent, Captain.”

“Oh, c’mon, Spock. We’re off duty, you can call me Jim.” Spock nodded softly, but did not correct his statement. “Still on for chess Friday night?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, uh… I was actually wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me before the chess match?”

“There are replicators within crew quarters--I do not see why we must go to the cafeteria.”

“No, Spock, I mean…” Jim stopped himself, giving a faint smile and glancing away. “Nevermind.” And Spock, in all his Vulcan genius glory, finally realized what Jim was asking.

“Captain,” Spock said in acute astonishment. 

“Jim,” James corrected.

“Jim, you do not… you do not have to-”

“I  _ want  _ to.”

"And what about your lover?" The words left Spock's mouth before he could filter them. An expression of strong confusion fell over Jim's face. 

"My lover? What are you talking about?"

"The one you insists be good to you… James, any lover should be good to you, you should not have to ask. You deserve better than that-"

“Oh, you heard that?” Jim gave a chuckle, blushing faintly. “No, Spock. That song is one of the classics, and one of my favorites, and if it were about anyone, then it would be you.” 

“Have I crossed you?”

“No-” Jim laughed. Whenever Jim laughed, it filled the room like sunlight, intoxicating to the brink of even Spock having trouble not joining in. “The song is… Well, it’s about loving someone as a radical act. It alludes to the bible, and describes what is normally a shameful and painful scene in losing Eden to sin, but spins it as something hopeful. I sang it because I know Vulcans tend to see Human love as transgressive... I just want to love you the only way I know how.” Jim was shy, now, seemingly unable to meet Spock’s eyes. He wasn’t wrong. Vulcans often viewed Humans with some apprehension, knowing full and well their naturally affectionate nature. But Spock had been around them long enough to know that no Human is the same, and for the most part, they respect his boundaries. It was why Spock stayed, and perhaps he’d also stayed for the personification of the sun he called his Captain.

“I am amenable to dinner, James,” Spock said after a moment. Jim’s eyes lifted and lit up, cheeks bright and rosey. Spock thought that Jim had never looked so Human in all his years of knowing him--and oddly enough, that only made Spock want him more.

 

The second time that Spock heard Jim sing was three years later, at the five year mission completion party. The majority of the Human crew were, if not weeping, drunk, and sometimes both. Spock found himself also longing for the mission, and while he knew it was illogical, allowed himself to partake. He did not get inebriated, knowing full and well that someone at this party would likely need to be taken home, but he comforted Nyota and Chekov, assuring them that James would likely request to have the same crew the next time he went on a mission; and everyone knew there wasn’t a single force in the known universe that could stop Jim from exploring space.

The party was being held in one of the security and tactical team member’s homes in France. They had inherited an estate from their rather wealthy parents upon completion of their first mission, and it was an elegantly modern home. The floor was a polished dark wood, with a long white runner carpet with accents of burgundy and muted orange split the room in half by its length. Circular tables lined the walls, and speakers hung from the walls, playing an easy flowing song. Walls of glass stood tall, surrounding them in a large entertaining room, and outside were acres of grapevines. It reminded Spock of Napa Valley, just a few short hours north of San Francisco. Jim had taken them there on their shore leave during their fourth year of the mission. It was there that they found a cocoa powder infused red wine, and well, they both got thoroughly intoxicated that night.

And then there was a gentle thumping as the music died down. Looking over to the center of the room, the Captain himself was standing on a chair, notably sober, and he raised a hand to quiet the cheering that had risen to a crescendo. 

“I’m not one for speeches-” Jim was cut off by a sharp ‘Bullshit!’ from one drunken country doctor in the back corner of the room, and the room broke out with laughter, quieting down after a few moments. “Okay, maybe I am one for speeches, but still, I’ll try to keep this short. These past five years have been the best of my life. Each and every one of you has given everything in the pursuit of finding new worlds to explore and discovering new civilizations--and learning much more about our own in the process. You are all destined for fantastic things, and wherever life may take you, I have full confidence that you will face them fearlessly. You are my family, and should you ever need anything, I will always be there for you.”

“Here, here!” Scotty cheered, lifting a glass of scotch, and the room echoed it right back to him. Jim smiled around at his crew.

“And as special as you all are to me, there is one person who has changed my life in ways I can’t even begin to describe, and will continue to until the day I die. My lovely boyfriend, Spock.” Jim’s blue eyes found Spock’s in an instant within the crowd. “I know you hate being the center of attention, but you know me, and there is absolutely no way I’m doing this without making a scene.” He motioned to someone that Spock found had little relevance in the moment, and gentle music began to play. Jim took in an anxious breath, and began to sing.  _ “When the rain is blowing in your face, and the whole world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love.”  _ Spock couldn’t help but remember the night they first made their feelings known to each other, when he’d first caught Jim singing with meaning.

_ “When the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there’s no one there to dry your tears, oh, I could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love.”  _ Jim stepped down from the chair and began to make his way toward Spock.  _ “I know you haven’t made your mind up yet, but I will never do you wrong. I’ve known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong.”  _ The crowd parted for Jim, some moving together to murmur in ears about what they thought was about to happen. Some looked ecstatic--others with jealousy. But Spock’s eyes were glued to the man steadily making his way over, and Spock could almost see the makings of tears in his eyes, while the smile was wide and genuine.

_ “I’d go hungry; I’d go black and blue, I’d go crawling down the avenue. No there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do, to make you feel my love. The storms are raging on the rolling sea, and on the highway of regret. The winds of change are blowing wild and free, you ain’t seen nothing like me yet.”  _ Spock watched as Dr. McCoy slipped something into Jim’s hand subtly, and the blonde finally approached the table Spock was sat at. Jim crouched down onto his left knee, and held out a matte black ring with a golden engraving in Vulcan: the words  _ My Eden _ . Jim looked oddly nervous, as if Spock could say no.

_ “I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do, go to the ends of the Earth for you, to make you feel my love… To make you feel my love.”  _ The music eased to a comfortable stop, and Jim looked as if he might cry. “There aren’t words to describe how much you mean to me… You have shown me unwavering love and trust, even when I know it was hard to. You make me a better partner, a better Captain, and a better man. I can see a future with you clearer that I can see my reflection in a mirror, sweetheart… S’chn T’gai Spock, will you make that future a reality and marry me?” The room was pregnant with eager anticipation.

“Yes, James,” Spock said warmly, fighting the smile his human half wanted to reflect. “I will marry you.” The room broke out into whoops and hollers as Jim slipped the ring onto Spock’s finger, and Spock rested his forefingers against Jim’s, projecting his happiness to his human lover.

 

The third time, or at least the third with significance, Spock heard Jim singing was when coming out of the thick, heady daze of Pon Farr. They were freshly bonded, and Spock felt sticky everywhere as he laid against Jim’s chest. His human had his arms wrapped securely around Spock’s midsection, holding him firmly. Jim smelt like sex--the whole room did; though they had only done it four or five times since coming back from their honeymoon, thanks to Starfleet’s regulations that partners are not allowed to work the same shifts, the smell was well defined. The room was in a state of disaster, from what Spock could see. He saw clothes discarded carelessly to the ground, some torn at the seams, and he turned a  gentle olive hue, knowing full and well that the wrecked items were likely his doing. It was even worse than the first night of their honeymoon, a human tradition where the married couple go on an extended vacation and settle into their new life together. 

The honeymoon had been spent travelling. Jim took Spock to see the Seven Ancient Wonders of the Earth, touring everything they could. Spock, in turn, took Jim to see the Forge and the sacred temples of Amonak and T’Panit. They then visited Betazed, Mavoi, Liail, and finally settled on Vaolas, where the two spent most of their time on the beaches or making light conversation with the locals. For the first time in what was likely the entirety of his life, Spock had drawn the conclusion that he had achieved genuine happiness in finding a home in James Kirk.

Spock felt the vibrations in Jim’s chest before he heard his voice, and he was drawn back into the moment. A Vulcan’s senses tend to diminish during their time. Feeling a sense of gentle recognition from Jim’s side of the bond, Spock knew that Jim could see him awake, and Jim’s fingers began to gently massage the tense and increasingly sore muscles on the harder to reach muscles in Spock’s back that might have made him blush, if he could feel anything below his arms that weren’t his own aching body. Jim’s voice was unmistakable, now, as his husband began to sing softly into his ear, if a bit more raspy than usual.

_ “I’ve got you under my skin, I’ve got you deep in the heart of me. So deep in my heart, that you’re really a part of me. I’ve got you under my skin... I tried so, not to give in. I said to myself: ‘This affair will never go so well.’ But why should I try to resist when baby, I know so well… I’ve got you under my skin.”  _ Spock, in his less composed state couldn’t stop the faint, tired smile if he wanted to, relaxing at Jim’s precise pressure. Hearing his voice after such a physically taxing event was almost as relieving as the shower he would take when he could stand later. Hearing him, comprehending him, was the true sign that Spock had shaken the blood fever.

_ “I’d sacrifice anything, come what might, for the sake of having you near, in spite of a warning voice that comes in the night and repeats, repeats in my ear: ‘Don’t you know, little fool, you can never win? Use your mentality, wake up to reality.’ But each time I do, just the thought of you makes me stop before I begin, ‘cause I’ve got you under my skin…”  _ With Jim’s gentle ministrations and soothing voice, and Spock’s own very genuine exhaustion, Spock slowly fell back asleep, comforted with knowing that when he woke up, he would truly be himself again--this time, with the love of his life only a thought away.

 

The one and only time Jim had ever heard Spock sing was four years later at 4:27 AM on a Tuesday morning in San Francisco, California. The two had taken a year off of deep space missions with the new arrival of their first child: an adopted half-Human, half-Vulcan baby girl they’d named S’chn T’gai Ingrid Irel Kirk. Ingrid was a happy baby, she enjoyed walking along the many piers in Old San Francisco, her favorite toy was a  _ tza'atzua,  _ a Vulcan logic building toy that often preoccupied most of her focus during the day. She had thick Vulcan hair, a seemingly dominant trait in all Vulcans, and, of course, the pointed ears (when Jim saw the tiny ears for the first time he nearly cried), but she had inherited lighter brown eyes, and faint freckles that Jim was sure would darken over time. 

And as much as they both loved everything about their daughter, putting her to bed was a  _ complete  _ nightmare. Getting her to sleep took upwards of an hour, and she woke up every two hours without fail. The two got into the routine of switching back and forth to take care of her, and while the time between each disturbance increased as she got older, something always seemed to go wrong.

Ingrid was two months old when Spock rolled out of bed, leaving Jim half-asleep and exposed to the cool winter air in the room to go take care of her. A few seconds later, Jim heard Spock hushing Ingrid softly over the baby monitor, and while the crying stopped for a while when he fed her a bottle, she was already fussy again by the time she finished. She just couldn’t stop.

Spock, with his touch-telepathy, knew that she was just bored and lonely, and would need to be calmed back to sleep. He remembered his mother mentioning something that may help, something that often calmed Spock when he was an infant. Spock never once thought he would actually take her up on the advice, but it was too early to let Ingrid cry it out. Sighing, he took a seat in the rocking chair, and looked down to the child, and began to sing softly.

_ “Goodnight my angel, time to close your eyes, and save these questions for another day. I think I know what you’ve been asking me, I think you know what I’ve been trying to say. I promised I would never leave you, and you should always know: wherever you may go, no matter where you are, I never will be far away…”  _ Spock watched as Ingrid began to calm, gently wiping the stray tears from her cheeks.

_ “Goodnight my angel, now it’s time to sleep, and still so many things I want to say. Remember all the songs you sang for me, when we went sailing on an emerald bay. And like a boat out on the ocean, I’m rocking you to sleep. The water’s dark and deep, inside this ancient heart, you’ll always be a part of me.”  _ Her eyes were so human. Able to convey so much wonder and emotion, but with the normal mannerisms of a Vulcan infant. Spock had the sad thought that those eyes didn’t belong there, and he knew that his mother must have, at some point, had the same thought. 

Having had a child of his own, he was able to look at his mother’s life with a new perspective. She went to a planet where the general public found everything about her distasteful. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about her. And then she became pregnant with a Vulcan child, stifling the idea that humans couldn’t survive Pon Farr, and that humans couldn’t deliver healthy hybrid babies to full term. She would then raise a son conditioned to  acknowledge only one side of his lineage, often distancing himself from her as he aged. He already knew he would learn from his parent’s mistakes and raise Ingrid with both the human and the Vulcan aspects of life, because she is both, and both are crucial to her learning. He also knew that if he didn’t, she would spend half a lifetime hating half of herself, and spend the next trying to undo the damage. At least Spock knew such a thing was possible.

_ “Goodnight my angel, now it’s time to dream, and dream how wonderful your life will be. Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby, then in your heart there will always be a part of me... Someday we’ll all be gone, but lullabies go on and on, they never die, that’s how you and I will be…”  _ Ingrid had drifted to sleep somewhere toward the end of the second verse, but Spock couldn’t help but finish. Standing up gently, he eased his daughter back into her cot, and made his way back toward their bedroom. It was there he found Jim smiling softly, tears glistening in the fading moonlight that snuck through their blinds. Concerned, Spock made his way over and sat beside his husband, placing a hand on his forearm.

“What is wrong, James?” he asked.

“Nothing, baby,” Jim murmured, smiling at Spock lovingly as his worried husband gingerly wiped his tears away. “Nothing at all… I love you so much.” He leaned forward, kissing Spock happily, and the two settled down for sleep again. “Spock?” Jim asked after a long, comfortably quiet moment.

“Yes, ashayam?” 

“I never knew you liked Billy Joel.”

With an embarrassed grunt and Spock moving press his face into Jim’s nape, Jim laughed softly, gently running his fingers through the ends of his husband’s hair, the light of a new day began to shine in on the small, loving family.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs in order of appearance:  
> -Be - Hozier  
> -Make You Feel My Love - Adele  
> -I’ve Got You Under My Skin - Frank Sinatra  
> -Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) - Billy Joel
> 
> Thank you again to my wonderful editor and my awesome prompter, and thanks for reading!


End file.
